


crimson headache, aching blush

by sebfish



Series: easier to be [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 08:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11642361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebfish/pseuds/sebfish
Summary: He was used to Taylor being his baby sister, the little kid he’d seen grow up in fits and starts. Maybe that’s why it took him by surprise to see her like that, with her blonde hair and little black dress and shoes. She could be just another girlfriend, there to smile and look pretty for pictures.





	crimson headache, aching blush

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely in the same universe as [He loves her like this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11534055), this is the longer story that spawned that fic. There's definitely more coming in this universe, but I've been stuck at this point for a while and figured it'd be better to post it than have it sit indefinitely. 
> 
> This fic owes a lot to butongooddays' [light the lamp](https://archiveofourown.org/series/259201) series which I have probably read more times than is healthy, if you haven't read it you really need to. 
> 
> The title is from Heaven in Hiding by Halsey because I've been listening to that album on repeat since it came out.
> 
> Some slight mentions of alcohol. 
> 
> It's sibling incest so the usual warnings apply, read at your own risk.
> 
> Disclaimer that this is a fictional representation of the people mentioned, no harm is meant, etc etc.

It starts at the NHL awards, of all places, when he’s on his third glass of champagne and making awkward small talk with someone he vaguely knows, glancing around to see if he can figure out where Taylor went. He hates these kinds of events, mostly, having to dress up and paste on a media smile.

Taylor’s been having fun though and that makes it worth it. He’d promised her years ago that he’d take her when she was older, and this year she’d turned eighteen and he’d been nominated, so it was as good a time as any.

He was used to Taylor being his baby sister, the little kid he’d seen grow up in fits and starts. Maybe that’s why it took him by surprise to see her like that, with her blonde hair and little black dress and shoes. She could be just another girlfriend, there to smile and look pretty for pictures.

It was easy, with her there, even though he’s used to doing these kinds of events. Smile, make small talk, let them think they own a piece of you.

Taylor’s a comforting presence at his side, brushing against him every so often as she gestures while she’s talking. She’s better at this than he is, better at small talk that doesn’t sound like media answers and good at drawing him into the conversation but keeping up the flow enough that he doesn’t have to talk too much.

It would be so easy to forget that she isn’t just another WAG.

Sidney drinks more champagne than he should, pushes the thought away, and smiles along with everyone else.

 

 

 

Maybe it would’ve been easier if they’d seen each other more growing up but they’d barely passed each other, Sidney already nearly out the door for hockey and Taylor so much farther behind. They’re close anyway, phone calls and Skype chats making up for the distance whenever they can. 

He sees her over the summers usually, the two of them rattling around in his house back home. It’s always weird to see how much she’s changed, growing by fits and starts while he’s away, but she’s still the same person as ever.

 

 

 

They’re in his hotel room, later, when he’s riding the edge of drunk enough that he’s willing to let himself look at her, just a little bit. The TV’s on and she’s sitting on the edge of his bed with her shoes kicked off and her feet curled under, switching through channels before settling on a cooking show.

She’s got a room too, next door, but he already knows that she’s probably going to stay with him because it’s just something they do. It doesn’t mean anything, except maybe as a way to catch up on all the childhood sleepovers that they never got, but it’s normal, in a weird way that shouldn’t really make sense but does, for them.

It started when she was a kid and he’d let her sleep in his bed because she was scared of the monsters lurking in the dark corners of her room. It didn’t matter, then, because she was a little kid and little kids were like that some times.

Later, when he was in Shattuck and then the Q, she’d stay with him whenever he came home because she missed him. He was old enough to realize that it was probably something they shouldn’t be doing, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.

He probably should’ve stopped it at some point, after he’d been drafted and mostly moved out, but it was easier to just not.

 

 

 

Sidney has his jacket and tie off and cuffs undone, leaning back against the headboard and watching Taylor watch whatever it is that’s on the TV.

He’s pretty sure it’s a rerun of Cupcake Wars because he’s pretty sure he’s seen it before, but that’s neither here nor there.

He pulls his shoes off and drops them off the side of the bed, and Taylor turns at the noise to smile at him. Sidney smiles back, caught, and she scoots over to tuck herself next to him.

“Hey,” he says, feeling warm with alcohol and the sweet smell of her perfume.

“Hey yourself,” she says, warm hair and the solid shape of her next to him.

She moves, then, suddenly in his lap, and she’s warm and solid and straddling him and it’s…new, and he’s tipsy enough that he moves his hands to her hips because it seems like the right thing to do.

Taylor looks uncertain, then, looking like she’s trying to find something in his face but she must find whatever she’s looking for because, oh, that’s her mouth on his, soft and a little bit uncertain.

He kisses her back without thinking, slides a hand up to her jaw and cups her face, adjusting the angle a little bit so it’s better. She makes a noise against his mouth and it’s so good, in a way that he’s never let himself think about.

He’s not sure how long they kiss, Taylor slowly growing more confident, tracing the end of her tongue across the seam of his lips. He parts his lips and lets her in, licks back into her mouth and swallows the noises she makes. It’s a while before he realizes that she’s grinding down against his lap and he’s _hard_ , under the warm weight of her and it hits him like a bad check.

Sidney pulls away from her, feeling shaky and taking deep breaths. She looks shell shocked, a little, wide eyed and mussed and so beautiful that he can hardly breathe with it.

“Taylor,” he says shakily, brushing his thumb across her cheek. She moves back a little, creates a space between them that feels immediately too far but it’s probably better.

“Is this,” she says hesitantly, “is this okay?”

“Taylor,” he says again. “Let’s just—it’s late, are you staying here or in your room?”

 _You’re my sister_ , he wants to say, feels it skipping around in his head like a scratched record.

She takes the out for what it is, though, nods and pulls away from him, stands up and smooths her dress down from where it’d been rucked up over her thighs.

“Here, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods. She grabs her shoes and room key and slips out, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Sidney gives himself a moment before he gets up, strips and carefully hangs up his suit, then puts on a clean t-shirt. Boxers and a shirt are what he’s always slept in, but it seems like not quite enough, suddenly. He shrugs off the feeling and goes through his going-to-bed routine, makes sure to drink an extra bottle of water.

Taylor’s in bed already when he emerges from the bathroom, tucked up on her usual side and watching the TV. He slides into the bed on his usual side, makes sure his phone is plugged in to charge and that his alarms are set, and passes Taylor a bottle of water.

She rolls her eyes at it but uncaps it and takes a drink anyway.

“I didn’t drink that much,” she says. It’s true, even if there’s a little more leeway at the NHL awards she’s still not legal to drink, even in Canada, and they’d compromised on a glass or two of champagne.

He shrugs. “Good habit to get into.” She caps the bottle and sets it on her side table, then switches off the TV.

He clicks off the light and it’s easy, in the dark, to settle in to bed, scoot towards her and pull her against him. She burrows down against him, face pressed into his shoulder, and it’s normal and nice.

“Night,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against her forehead. She murmurs sleepily back, and they’re going to have to talk about this eventually, but it’s easier to just close his eyes and let himself drift.

 

 

 

Summer goes on and they don’t end up talking about it, but she comes to stay with him in the house on the lake and still stays in his bed even though she’s got her own room.

Sidney’s got a schedule, training and workouts and a scattering of media things, enough to keep busy but not so much that he can’t rest. She joins him for some of it even though she’s also got her own goalie stuff to do.

He’s making a post-workout smoothie when she comes up behind him and hooks her chin over his shoulder to see what he’s doing.

“Want one?” he offers. He’s been experimenting with fruit and spinach and it’s pretty good.

“Sure.” He feels her shrug behind him and tries to not get distracted by the feeling of her breasts pressing against his back.

He throws in another serving of protein powder, another handful of spinach, another cup or so of frozen fruit and puts on the lid. He focuses on blending it instead of the feeling of Taylor behind him, and is only a little disappointed when she peels away from him to grab another cup.

She’s been like this all summer, close enough into his personal space that it could almost be an accident, but it’s more than they’ve been before. He should be responsible and say something but the equilibrium between them feels fragile and he’s too much of a coward.

She’s only eighteen, she’d get over it. He shouldn’t encourage anything.

He divvies out the smoothie between the two cups, passes hers over, pushes the thought away for later.

 

 

 

Taylor kisses him again towards the end of the summer, when he’s starting to think about training camp and she should probably be packing for college.

She’s leaving tomorrow, heading home so she can pack and be fussed at by their parents before she leaves for college, and it’s not that far and he’ll see her often enough but it won’t be the same and there’s a part of Sidney that’s already missing her.

He’s been trying to be a good example, this summer, but he caves and they have a couple of beers on the dock after dinner, watching the sunset flame across the water. She’s sitting in the v of his legs, leaning against his chest, sipping on her beer and watching the sunset.

It’s quiet, the sort of moment he just wants to soak in and keep forever.

“Hey Sidney?” Her voice is soft, and she sets her beer down on the dock.

“Yeah?” She wriggles, turning so she’s facing him.

“Tell me no if you don’t want this,” she says, leaning in, and he gets caught on the glint of light on her eyelashes before he realizes that she’s kissing him.

It’s a soft, closed-mouth press, easy and quick and over before he can think.

“Taylor,” he says helplessly.

“I know it’s not normal, or whatever,” she says quickly, before he can say anything else. “But it’s just, it make sense, you know?”

“I know,” he says hoarsely. “We shouldn’t, though.”

“So?” There’s a glint in her eye like she’s going to fight him about it, because she’s a Crosby and they know stubbornness down to their bones.

He’s spent his whole life thinking about what he should be doing, kept himself uninteresting and reputable because he was already Sidney Crosby, he didn’t need anything else to make people pay attention to him. But he wants this, wants it like the glide of skates on fresh ice and the rush of a puck hitting the back of the net.

It’s almost enough to make him want to be reckless.

He kisses her back instead of replying, pulls her in close to him and swallows the noise of surprise she makes.

She kisses him back, makes it deep and dirty, and he groans and sinks into it.

The last rays of the sunset are almost gone by the time he pulls away, breathless and wanting. He’s hard in his jeans, pressed up close enough that she can probably feel it.

“If we do,” he says, soft, “we’ve got to take it slowly, eh?” _I can’t fuck this up_ , he thinks, because she’s Taylor and she’s his sister and that’s the most important thing.

“I can live with that,” she says, and pulls him down for more kissing.

 

 

 

It’s hard not to think about it after Taylor leaves and Sidney’s left rattling around the house for a week before it’s time to move back to Pittsburgh. He finds little reminders of her scattered around the house; a few hair ties, a book she’d been reading, a spare phone charger, clothing left in his hamper that she’d forgotten to retrieve.

He gathers it all up, tucks it in a spare tote and sets it aside to hand over the next time he sees her.

His bed smells like her, too, something sweet and indefinably Taylor and it’d be too easy to sink back into the smell when he’s got his eyes closed and his hand on his dick and think about the strong lines of her thighs and the curve of her breasts.

He tries not to for the most part, gets off quickly and perfunctorily in the shower instead because even if this is a line that he’s already crossing, it’s not something he should be doing.

There’s a part of him that’s waiting for something to happen, a tense anticipation in his gut like he knows someone’s gunning for him and all he can do is brace for the hit. There’s no reason for them to know, but he keeps waiting for his parents to say something, or for one of his teammates to call and say _what the fuck are you thinking?_

He sees Taylor a few times before it’s time to leave and it would be normal, almost, except that she presses herself against him and kisses him hello as soon as they’re alone. She doesn’t push and he doesn’t ask but it’s tantalizing and terrifying to think that she’s there and she wants him.

He leaves for Pittsburgh, finally, and it’s a relief to throw himself back into getting ready for the new season. He settles into his house, meets the new guys and pretends that everything is normal.

Nobody knows, he thinks, and it’s so easy to smile and pretend that everything’s the same.


End file.
